Chapter 9 - The Fall of the House of Holloway
By noon, the boardroom was completely cleared of investors.
Two federal agents escorted Lauren Hayes out of the building in handcuffs, her face covered by her coat as local news cameras flashed relentlessly outside the glass entrance. Her career, her reputation, and her freedom were obliterated.
Grant sat on a bench in the hallway, his designer suit rumpled, stripped of his company phone, his corporate laptop, and his keycards. Two private security guards stood over him, ensuring he didn't touch a single file.
Barbara was slumped on a leather sofa in the reception area, sobbing into a handkerchief. The smug, condescending woman who had sneered at me twenty-four hours earlier looked twenty years older, her makeup streaked with tears.
""Jenna,"" Barbara wailed, struggling to her feet as I walked toward the elevators. She reached out with trembling hands, trying to touch my arm. ""Please... you can't be this cruel. He’s your husband! My family will be completely ruined! The humiliation... everyone in Scarsdale will know!""
I paused and looked at her. There was no hatred in my heart—only total, detached indifference.
""You sat at my kitchen table yesterday and told me I contributed nothing,"" I said calmly. ""You laughed when your son bragged about starving his own child to teach me humility. You cared about luxury, status, and control. You never cared about honor. You raised a thief, Barbara. And now you have to watch him face the consequences.""
""Where am I supposed to go?"" she cried. ""Grant was paying the lease on my apartment! He bought my car through the company!""
""Then I suggest you learn how to live on your own sweat, Barbara,"" I replied. ""Just like you told me to do.""
I walked over to Grant. He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot, his pride entirely evaporated.
""Jenna... please,"" he choked out. ""Don't send me to prison. I'll sign the divorce papers. I'll give up every claim to the house. Just don't testify.""
""The FBI doesn't need my testimony, Grant,"" I said quietly. ""You left a paper trail across three states and an offshore island. The $1.6 million in Nevis has already been frozen by international asset recovery marshals. Every dollar will be returned to the bank to clear the lien against my father’s logistics center.""
""What about me?"" he whispered, his voice trembling. ""What am I supposed to do?""
""You're going to pay for your crimes,"" I said. ""And after that, you're going to pay child support from whatever honest wage you manage to earn with a felony record.""
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The elevator doors chimed open.
Howard and I stepped inside. As the heavy stainless-steel doors began to slide shut, I caught one final glimpse of Grant Holloway sitting alone on the corridor floor, head in his hands, completely abandoned by the world he had tried to swindle.
